


The White Mutiny

by Ravenwood240



Category: Parahuman, Worm - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alt-Power Taylor Hebert, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenwood240/pseuds/Ravenwood240
Summary: The multiverse is a vast place, beyond the imagination of any human, worlds upon worlds, ones with minor differences, ones so far out of human reference that we cannot even imagine them.  We look now, on one subset of the multiverse, where Alien space whales drop powers in people’s heads.  On these worlds is a person, usually female, named Taylor Hebert.  Three things stand out about her in these worlds. Her life is usually bad, her powers lower tier, and she is almost always the Queen of Escalation, of doing whatever it takes to win. In this particular world we look at today, her life isn’t as bad as some or as good as others.  No, what makes this world different is that here, she has the power to change the world, all the worlds, but not the will.  What happens when the Queen of Escalation won’t?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

Triggers: This is a story set in a dark world, where Authorities are evil, corrupt or incompetent, where literal Nazis walk the streets, sex slaves are a fact of life and thousands of people are killed or murdered yearly by Endbringers, murder hobos and villains. People will swear, fight and do things that make normal people uncomfortable. If any of that bothers you, I really suggest now that you find something else to read. Some of these chapters will be vetted by mods before being posted, to ensure I stay within site rules, but other than that, the characters will act as they will.

Canon/Fanon: This is a work of Fanon, by dint of being fan-fiction. I do not own Worm, although I have read it all. Canon in this story is Worm, plus a few bits and pieces from PRT, namely, the youth guard. If something is Canon to Worm as of the morning of Annette’s death, it is Canon in this story. I will attempt to follow Worm Canon up until whatever change I have created for a story. After that, the Butterflies will be changing things, and hopefully, I can explain them all well enough not to blindside you, unless blindsiding you with it was the point. I suppose, by the customs of this forum, it would be an Alt power/AU.

One last note: Every law, rule or regulation mentioned in this story is, in fact, a law that has been enacted somewhere in the world, mostly the USA and or Britain. No single place has them all, but hey, this is Worm, where Stupid and Authority go hand in hand.

Chapter One

The end of an era, the beginning of a saga.  
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, Love leaves a memory no one can steal.” (From an Irish headstone.)

06MAY2008

Hookwolf reached out with a blade covered arm and dug into the side of a building, using the anchor to whip around a corner just before a dumpster split the air he had been in. He heard Lung roaring behind him but he couldn’t stop to fight. He had to stay ahead of the beast, lead him to the ambush where the Empire would finally put the chink down for good. He slid into an alley, just a couple of blocks from where the rest of his allies waited. Ahead, he spotted one of Crusader’s ghosts. He pelted out of the alley, cutting across the intersection at the end of the block, slowing just enough to be sure Lung saw him, and the direction he went.

Lung left the alley, seeking the coward that ran from him after destroying a brothel run by the ABB, setting the girls free and killing nearly a dozen men that tried to fight. He saw the Empire cape and grabbed a car sitting by the alley mouth. He lit it on fire and threw it at the other villain. Hookwolf dodged it, running down another street and Lung followed, growing larger as he grew angrier at the coward running from him.

Neither of them saw what happened to the flaming car.

Armsmaster led the PRT van on the trail of destruction that Hookwolf and Lung had left. So far, few civilians had been hurt. Residents of Brockton Bay may try to film every cape fight they saw, but they did it from covered positions since people that didn’t take cover when capes fought didn’t live long.

He caught a glimpse of Lung just leaving the alley Armsmaster was entering and sped up. They were getting too close to residential areas and the heroes had to redirect the fighters into areas where fewer people would be at risk.

Just as he reached the end of the alley, there was an explosion. He came out of the alley and his blood froze. At the end of the block was an intersection. There was a car stopped there, that had apparently been stopped at the light when the villains had come through.

There was another car crushing in the top half of it, a car that was on fire, and even as the PRT van came out of the alley, someone with long black hair tried to squeeze out of the passenger window. She got an arm out, even as her hair started burning and then the car Lung had thrown exploded.

When the fireball subsided, all that was visible of the woman was her arm, dangling out of the window as flames spread across the sedan she was in.

Danny Hebert, Home, 06MAY2008

Danny opened the door woodenly, closing it behind him and resting his head on the door while he steeled himself for the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. “Taylor?” His voice echoed through the silent house. He started toward the kitchen only to hear a soft whimper, the sound of despair from Annette’s office. He crossed to the door and pushed it open. Over his daughter’s head, he could see shaky cellphone coverage of a burning car.

Taylor turned to him, eyes begging him to make it better. He held out his arms and his daughter was in them as she wept, his face telling her the things he couldn’t get around the lump in his throat.

He held his only child as the damn video began to repeat. He saw Hookwolf and Lung, saw the Protectorate heroes go past and understanding about what had happened blossomed in his head. In his heart, a fury grew, one long held down to protect his family. Only, being nice hadn’t protected them, had it?

Danny banked the fury for now. He had to take care of Taylor. There would be funeral things to deal with, a daughter to care for. But, after he was certain that those things were taken care, there would be time to deal with other things.

10MAY2008

“Thank you for coming, Alan.” The two men shook hands gravely as Emma and Taylor disappeared into the kitchen with Zoe’s casserole. “I’ll be calling on you next week,” Danny said quietly, “I need to make some changes to my will.” Danny looked at his friend of nearly thirty years. “I also need a name from you. You don’t have to give it to me, but it would make it easier.”

Alan Barnes looked at Danny, noting the grief that hung over him, but seeing, as only somebody that had known Danny for decades could, the underlying tension. “Danny,” he started, only for Danny to interrupt him.

“You don’t want to know, Alan, and I won’t tell you. I’ll not drag you or your family into this.”

“That doesn’t reassure me, Danny.”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t have a lot of reassurance in me right now.”

The meal was mostly silent, with the three adults eating at the small table in the kitchen while Taylor, Emma and Anne eating in the living room.

After the Barnes family left, Danny sat down in his chair in the living room. Taylor was curled up on the couch, staring at the TV, although Danny was certain she wasn’t seeing the news show. “Taylor,” he began, and waited until she turned to look at him. “Your mother was a very prepared person. She left a letter for you, if anything should happen to her. I got it out this morning. It’s in her office, propped up against her computer when you want it.”

Taylor nodded, tears starting again and Danny held his arms out. It had been several years since Taylor sat in his lap on this chair, but as his shirt was soaked by tears, Danny couldn’t find any joy in it happening again.

  
Summer, 2008.

Taylor sighed as she kicked a rock in the parking lot. Her father was so paranoid. He wouldn’t let her go many places without him or somebody else these days and this was the third time she’d been dragged to his work over summer vacation. The worst part was that she could understand where he was coming from. When she did stay home or go out with Emma, there was a fear in the back of head until she saw him again. A murmur of voices came from around the building, and she wandered that way.

On the side of the building were a couple of picnic tables under a freestanding metal roof. Sitting at the tables were a dozen or so older people. One of them saw her and grinned. “Y’all watch your language now, we’ve got a visitor.”

Intrigued by the southern accent, Taylor came closer. “Welcome, lass. You’d be Danny’s young’un, wouldn’t you?”

Taylor nodded. “Well, then, welcome to the Shady Side, home of the grandest bunch of Dockworkers to ever work a dock.” Snorts and outright laughter met that sally.

“Don’t listen to the old windbag, he’s senile.” The speaker was one of the two women sitting there. “We’re just folks, whiling away the time and telling stories of the old days, when ships used to be common.”

Taylor felt a stirring of interest. She’d overheard her father telling some stories to her mom, but they had hushed before she could get close enough to hear details. “So, you guys know all the stories about the docks?” She sat down at the edge of the table.

“Lass, we lived most of them in the last sixty years or so, and heard the stories from before then from the people that were there.” This speaker was a burly man, on the shorter side, nearly as wide as he was tall, with muscles fading in his age, but still strong. His right arm was missing from the elbow down and a simple grasping claw took the place of his hand.

“So, you guys know the story of The Blue Whale?”

The group broke out in laughter. “Most of us where there when yer old man dealt with that bunch, yeah. Why are you asking?”

Taylor grinned. “I’ve only heard bits of the story, and I think Dad is hiding something about it. I just wanted a different viewpoint.”

The old folks looked at each other and shrugged. “Ernie, grab us a few beers and get something for the lass. Storytelling is a thirsty business, it is.” One of them got up and disappeared inside. “Now, let’s see. I believe the best place to start this story would be the summer of 1987. Danny was working labor, having just gotten his union card.”

Taylor would spend a couple of weeks, coming to the docks just to listen to the stories of the old days, of fights, deals, jokes and all the other things that happened when rough people from every country met. Some of the stories dealt with her family. There had been Heberts working the docks one way or another for nearly a hundred years and Taylor began to understand why Danny kept fighting for the people here.

They were more than a bunch of coworkers, they were more of an extended family, and while they might fight among themselves, no outsider was allowed that privilege. It was the beginning of July that Taylor met the kids that called the docks home. Danny had brought her to the Dockworker’s 4th of July picnic, and after listening to the old salts for awhile, she wandered off to see what else was going on.

She saw a group of kids near the baseball field and wandered in that direction. “Hey, ain’t you the boss’s kid?”

Taylor stopped and looked at the boy that had so rudely accosted her. “No, that would be Mike Jensen’s son Tyler.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Jensen may be the Union head, but everyone knows Beanpole Hebert runs the place. Boss bastard ain’t even shown up at a union meeting in years.”

Taylor blinked and started smiling. “Beanpole? Dad may be skinny, but you might want to be careful about assigning names to people you don’t know.”

The boy sneered. “Please, my old man can lift a full drum all day,” he bragged. “Can your old man do that?”

Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know. But he can write a contract that keeps people working and he has his union card.” She grinned and looked around. Moving a bit closer, she spoke quietly. “You guys know the story behind the old Toronto Sea warehouse?”

Sensing a good story, the other kids moved closer. Taylor sat on the grass and made a few lines in the dirt. “So, back in 1995, the Toronto Sea company owned the warehouse. The company, like many others, fell on hard times and the local manager decided it was time for an ‘accident’, so the company would just close operations here. He approached a local criminal, not a parahuman, just a guy that got things done.”

~~~~~~~

Danny was talking quietly to Joe Fees, one of the union backhoe operators when he saw Taylor telling a story to some of the other kids. She seemed to be having fun. He smiled slightly and turned his attention back to Joe. The two of them were standing a bit off from the others.

“So, you’re good with your group?”

“We’re good, Danny. Did a small run last night. Just a local dealer and his muscle. It went smooth as silk. The three of them didn’t know what hit them, the drugs were destroyed and is morning’s police blotter shows no sign of anything connected to us. The police think it was a falling out between dealers.”

“Good work. Remember the rules. This will only work as long as we’re careful and quiet about it. I’ll let you know when the next job is.”

Danny and Joe talked a few more minutes and then Joe joined his buddies. Danny stared out at the people as he considered his plan again. The gangs didn’t give a crap about the people and neither did the PRT. The police were hamstrung by moles, by parahumans and by a budget that was laughable at best. Their fleet was old, the officers had to supply their own body armor and corruption was rampant.

In Brockton Bay, the gangs ran the show. Danny wasn’t foolish enough to think he could take out the gangs entirely, and there was no way for normal humans to take on the capes openly, but something had to be done. He’d talked to a few guys, mostly the younger ones, and the ones with family tragedies because of the gangs. There were lots of those, these days. He had been careful and quiet, choosing the guys that could keep their mouths shut. He had six teams now, each team chosen by their leader. Danny knew the six leaders, but not the men or women they chose for their teams. Four of the teams were small, six men or less and their job was too harass streets dealers, beat then down, destroy the drugs and take the money. By switching teams and nights, never allowing any team or gang to hit or be hit too often, those tactics would slowly drain resources from the gangs. It would hit the Merchants the hardest, but all the gangs had dealers.

The last two teams were bigger, run by a pair of men that had done military time and had the skills needed. Those were the teams that would hit the crack houses, the labs. They would have better weapons and armor, abet still non-lethal as long as possible. They would be ready by the fall, hopefully. It took longer to train men for work like that.

Danny looked around. He’d only found two others for his team so far, but finding people brave enough to fight capes, smart enough to keep quiet about it and not afraid to cause a few deaths was far harder than any of the other teams. Some of the capes in the bay were damn near impossible to do anything to unless you were a cape yourself. Others… not so much.

The capes knew that of course, and most of them practiced good security. Lung’s identity was practically an open secret, because there just weren’t that many six and half feet tall Asian men in the city, and fewer of them were build like a bodybuilder. In fact, there were exactly two that were the size of Lung in the city, and only one of them had dragon tattoos on both arms. Why the PRT hadn’t taken him down before he ramped up by now was a frequent topic in bars. Oni Lee, on the other hand, was a complete mystery when he wasn’t in costume.

Thank god that none of the capes that couldn’t be dealt with lived in the Bay. Capes like Crawler and the Siberian were exactly what the PRT had been created for, and to be fair, they managed to at least keep capes like that on the run. Where the PRT fell down on the job was in dealing with the groups of capes. Gangs like Accord, the Elite and the E88 managed to achieve a stalemate with the PRT, being too large to take down at once without uncovering territory some other group would move in on.

Lung had managed to be the same way, despite his lack of capes, simply by being Lung. He could be chased away if the fight wasn’t important to him, but if he stayed and fought, there was a very short window before backing off was the only choice besides destroying the city. He’d proven that against Leviathan years ago. Fortunately for the Bay, he was a lazy bastard who rarely stirred himself as long as he had his creature comforts.

Not that it mattered. Danny wasn’t going to push that button right now. The Merchants were his target. They were the weakest of the big three, had capes that could be destroyed or killed and nobody would kick up a fuss about them going away.

After that, well, Danny wouldn’t be done until every gang was chased out of the city and Brockton Bay was safe for his daughter and his friends.

He only wished he could destroy the PRT at the same time. He would have to be satisfied with making them look foolish.

15JUL2008

Taylor stared at Jack Monroe. The son of a dock worker, he’d been insulting her and her father for a week, since his father had lost his job for drinking on the job. Back in the days when there was more work, a bit of drinking was ignored. That had been years ago though, and these days, work was given out based on how reliable you were, and how well you followed the rules. Robert Monroe had been caught drinking on the job twice. With dozens of men waiting for work, that was the end of his job, but he apparently thought he’d been treated unfairly by Danny and had made a fuss at home, one his son had heard. Jack had been riding her since, and while she had let it slide at first, it was becoming annoying. “Jack,” she said, feeling anger stir in her gut, “why are you still on about this? I checked, your old man was caught drinking on the job, not once, but twice. He knew the rules, he broke them, he paid the price. Let it go.”

“Fuck you, bitch. You ain’t one of us, you don’t belong here.” Jack stepped in front of her and glared at her. The other kids watched the confrontation quietly, waiting to see what Taylor would do.

Taylor had been around the docks, hearing the stories, at home and here for her entire life. So far, she had managed to defuse the few that didn’t like her with stories and a quick wit, but this idiot wasn’t responding to anything she had tried. It was time to settle this Docks style.

She put her hands in her pockets and looked at Jack. “My grandfather ran the Docks before he died, you know. Do you know how he did it?”

Jack shook his head. “Who cares? He ain’t here to save you now, pussy.”

Taylor looked Jack in the eye. “He did it, in the face of the Mob and the cops because they knew that when shit started to fly, Nathaniel Hebert would be right there, throwing shit harder and faster than anyone else. You know what else, Jack?” Taylor was staring at Jack, a small vicious smile on her face. Her hands came out of her pockets and one fist caught Jack in the nose before he could move. His nose burst with a wet cracking sound even as Taylor’s other hand caught his shirt, pulling him closer as she raised a knee into his crotch.

Jack crumpled to the ground, his hands cupping his nuts as blood poured out of his nose. “I can throw shit hard.” Taylor knelt down next to him and grabbed him by the hair, to force his eyes up to her face. “I’m done listening to you badmouth me and my family. If you start that shit again, I will show you just why I am my grandfather’s child.” Taylor opened the hand she’d hit him with to show the roll of quarters in her hand. “Let it go, Jack. If we have to revisit this little dispute, I will break every bone in your body until you quit or die.”

Taylor stood up. The other kids were staring at her. Some were impressed, some were wary, but she had their attention. “David, would you and Jerry take Jack to the first aid station? If they ask, he got in a fight with some gangbanger intruding on the docks. He got hurt, but he chased them away.”

The two boys nodded and helped Jack to his feet. After they were gone, Taylor looked at the kids still there. “I don’t like to fight. I think you all know that by now. I don’t like to fight because I don’t like hurting people. But, if you push hard enough, I will.”

Taylor took a deep breath. “That said, the adults and anyone not one of us don’t need to know he got beat by a girl, do they? We’ll forget it, as long as he lets it go, which means no teasing him about getting his ass kicked by a girl, Mike.”

Mike jerked, and then smiled. “Taylor, you don’t think I’d do that, do you?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I think you’d pull Leviathan’s tail if you thought you would get away with it.”

Mike started to say something and paused, his mouth open. He shook his head. “Well, maybe, if I was a cape.”

Taylor talked a minute longer and then looked at her watch. “I’ve got to run, got places to be.”

She walked off to called farewells, waving back at the others, who would be talking about the fight as soon as she was gone, she knew. She got to her father’s office and checked his schedule. He was out for at least another twenty minutes. She opened his first aid kit and took the hand she’d hit Jack with out of her pocket. The middle two knuckle were swollen and red, and made her wince as she tried to open them. She took two aspirin and put an icepack on her hand.

She was trying to straighten her hand when the door opened and Danny stepped inside. He looked at her hand and the icepack. “Jack’s face a little harder than you thought?” he asked dryly.

Taylor blinked. “How did you know about that already?”

Danny grinned at her. “It’s the Docks, honey, I know all, see all.”

Taylor gave him a flat look. Danny lifted her hand and looked at her knuckles. “Actually, Shorty saw the fight and he’s never been able to keep a good story quiet. I imagine by now, everyone in the Docks knows you’re Nate’s child.” He sighed. “I understand why you did that, Taylor,” he said quietly, “but you know that somebody is going to challenge a few times, until they know where you are in the pecking order, right?”

Taylor shrugged. “I know, but it was going to happen sooner or later, dad. Jack wasn’t the only one pushing me, just the most visible about it. I’m hoping that most of them take the lesson to heart and stop.”

Danny moved behind his desk and sat down. “Most of them will. From Shorty’s tale, you were impressive. How did you manage to break his nose in one hit, anyway?”

Taylor smiled slightly. “I learned from history. Salty told me about Tenspot and his habits.”

Danny stared at her. “Tenspot? You had a roll of quarters?” At her nod he sighed again. “Taylor, a roll of quarters is for big hands, you should have used nickels.” He coughed suddenly. “Not that I want you using any weapons.”

Taylor flexed her hand a few times. “I thought about nickels, but I didn’t know if they had the weight to work, and I had to have some kind of an advantage, dad, most of those kids outweigh me and have way more experience fighting.”

Danny nodded. “I understand why you did it, and we’ll fix that. There’s a few people here that have skills in various fighting styles. We’ll get you some classes.” He smirked at her. “And, golly gee,” he said, his eyes full of mirth, “I know just how to fix that outweigh thing. There’s a minor job, one the Union can’t afford to do, but that would help you out.”

Taylor stared at her father, his expression and words filling her with dread.

17JUL2008

Taylor dropped the box and swore under her breath as she looked at the warehouse. It was full of junk, years of stuff just tossed any which way. The lack of organization meant that everything had to come out, be inventoried and then replaced neatly so more stuff could be put in here.

Officially, she was doing this because her father wanted her to, but it was also understood that she was doing it for breaking Jack’s nose. She had known that actual damage would have consequences, but she had thought the punishment would be better than the number of kids that might challenge her without the damage.

Most people didn’t understand violence, except as a terrible thing, something to stay away from, or to decry, when it happened. And, to be honest, Taylor would be just as happy to fight with words only. But some people didn’t think that way, didn’t understand anything not backed by the threat of violence. That was why nations had armies, police had guns and people the right to defend themselves. That had been apparent from nearly the first day she’d come down here. The people here were a bit rougher than the ones that lived uptown, but they were still people. Most were good people making a living the best way they knew how.

“That junk isn’t going to move itself, you know.”

Taylor pulled out of her thoughts and looked at the doorway. Salty stood there, grinning his toothless smile. He was the oldest man on the docks, long since retired. He’d started as a laborer at fourteen, long before there were child labor laws and worked the docks for fifty-one years before an accident had taken his left leg at the knee. He’d worked another 15 years in the office before retiring and at ninety-five, he was still coming to the docks every day, rain or sun.

“I can hope, can’t I?” Taylor asked him as she caught the water bottle he tossed at her.

“Aye, you can do that, but if you work while you hope, you’ll get more done.” The old man sat down on a box, pulling out his pipe and pouch. “I heard about your fight, you know. Your old man was a little upset at me for telling you those stories.”

Taylor took a drink from the bottle before replying. “Given some of the things dad has done in his day, he’s got no room to talk,” she said dryly.

“True, and yet not true,” Salty said, as he lit his pipe. “See, he wants things to be better for you, like any good parent does, and yet, at the same time, he knows that the world isn’t perfect.” He pulled deep on his pipe and pointed the stem at her as her exhaled the smoke. “Mostly, he’s upset that I didn’t get the real point across in those stories.”

Taylor finished her water, and walked over to the next box. “Which point was that?”

Salty shrugged. “Mostly, that there is usually a better way. Also, that if you have to stoop to violence to get a point across, you’ve already failed.”

Taylor spent the day listening to the old man while she worked, absorbing what he said and what he meant.

03SEP2008

Taylor smiled as Emma met her at the door. “Hi Emma. How have you been?”

“Oh my god, girl, where have you been? Every time I try to find you, you’re gone. I was beginning to think you’d fallen off the planet.”

Taylor waved a hello at Alan and Zoe as Emma dragged her toward Emma’s room, the two adults smiling at her and disappearing as Emma shut the door, chattering about the modeling job she’d gotten for a local department store.

On the way home, Taylor was quieter than normal, and Danny watched her out of the corner of his eye. Taylor was thinking about something, he could tell, but he had no idea what. “Penny for your thoughts?” He said, and then winced internally at the cliche.

Taylor looked sideways at him and then sighed. “I’m not sure really. Emma’s been my best friend forever, but today, I was listening to her go on about stuff, and it struck me that a lot of the stuff she worries about is, is just sort of, not shallow, exactly, but unimportant.” She turned her head to look at him. “Did that make any sense?”

Danny sighed. “Yes. Emma is a nice girl, for the most part, but she’s led a sheltered life. She’s never been hungry, never had to worry about money or anything but her own concerns. That’s a good thing, for her, but it means that you and her may grow a little distant.” Danny was afraid he was being too blunt, but Taylor was just listening, with none of the signs of distress that he knew of. “You’ve been making friends among people that have a harder life than she does, a harder life than you do and that’s going to change you, for the better hopefully.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was another week before Taylor had the time to see Emma again. Between getting ready for school to start and her other friends Taylor had not gotten to do more than call Emma on the phone. Four days prior, Emma had dropped call and Taylor hadn’t heard from her since. Since it was a nice day, probably one of the last nice days of the year, she walked over to Emma’s house. When she got there, Emma was sitting on the porch with another girl Taylor didn’t know.

The other girl was black, and muscular in a way that Taylor didn’t often see in teenage girls. Her expression rang a warning bell in the back of Taylor’s head. That was a girl looking for a fight. Taylor had seen that look too many times in the docks. She went through the gate and stepped up on the porch. “Hi, Emma.”

Emma looked at her, and Taylor felt more warning bells. Emma looked… different. There was something in her eyes that Taylor had never seen in Emma. She leaned against the railing where she could see both of them.

“Taylor.” Emma’s voice was flat, with an undertone of anger and something Taylor didn’t understand. “What are you doing here?”

Taylor raised an eyebrow as she looked at Emma. “I came over to see my friend.”

“You’re not my friend anymore.” Taylor heard the words, but the gleam of something in the other girl’s eyes distracted her long enough that Emma continued. “I mean, I just don’t need you anymore. I should have dumped you long ago, but I was being nice.”

Taylor looked at Emma for a long minute and then turned to the other girl. She didn’t know what was going on here, but this girl was part of it. “Who are you?” she demanded bluntly.

“That’s my new friend, Sophia,” Emma said quickly. “She’s”

“You don’t need to explain shit to her,” Sophia interrupted. “Just tell her to go away, so we can go back to what we were doing.”

Taylor looked at Emma, considering the scene. For a minute, she was tempted to just walk away, to let Emma go, but the sneer on the other girl’s face irritated her, as did her entire attitude. She looked at the girl. “I’m talking to my friend. You’re being rude about.”

Sophia interrupted her, just as she had Emma. “So what? What are you going to do about it?” she challenged.

“I’m going to ask you to stop once.”

“And if I don’t?”

Taylor sighed. “Then I’ll keep talking to Emma, ignoring your mouth.”

Sophia stood up and moved closer, trying to crowd Taylor. “And what if I slap you stupid?”

Taylor just looked at the bitch. “You don’t want to do that,” she said quietly. “It wouldn’t end well.”

Sophia reached out to push Taylor and Taylor batted her hand away. Sophia snarled and swung a punch at Taylor who ducked it and buried her fist in Sophia’s gut. Sophia took it well and returned the blow, punching Taylor in the side of her head.

Taylor grabbed Sophia as she went over the railing and the two girls hit the ground. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of blows and counter-blows. Sophia was better trained than Taylor, but Taylor had reach and a strange style of fighting gained from a dozen instructors and styles that Sophia had a hard time with. Both of them fought dirty, in a manner learned from actual fighting.

By the time the two of them broke apart, breathing hard and glaring at each other, Taylor’s lip was split open and Sophia’s right eye was swelling rapidly.

Sophia glared at Taylor with a grudging respect. Taylor just watched her, getting her breathing under control. “You’re stronger than I thought,” Sophia said, touching her eye. She looked at Emma, who was watching Taylor with wide eyes. “I thought you said this girl was weak?”

Emma shook her head, staring at Taylor as if she’d never seen her before. “I thought she was, I’ve never seen her fight anyone.”

Taylor shot Emma a glance. “You’ve never come to the docks with me,” she said quietly, “and the people you know aren’t as rough as the dockworkers and their people.”

“You hang out in the docks?” She turned to Emma. “That would have been nice to know before I swung at her.”

Emma frowned, dismissing the comment. “It’s just a dirty part of town, it’s not important.”

Taylor and Sophia shared a look. Emma didn’t understand, but they knew. Sophia held her hand out. “I should have done this first. I’m Sophia Hess.”

Taylor shook her hand. “Taylor Hebert.”

Sophia frowned, thinking hard. “Hebert… you any relation to Danny Hebert? The guy that runs the docks?”

“Daddy doesn’t run them, Mr. Tyler does. He’s just the hiring manager,” Taylor said automatically.

Sophia rolled her eyes. “The man that controls the work runs the docks, no matter what the paperwork says.”

Taylor shrugged, smiling slightly. “The paperwork is important. It lets the authorities know who to blame,” she said.

Sophia and Emma both looked at her innocent expression before Sophia snorted. “Come and talk to us,” she invited, getting up to walk back to the porch. “Maybe you can talk about something besides fashion.”

Emma pouted until she caught Taylor’s eyes and shut up.

“The first thing I want to know is what happened to you, Emma.”

Taylor leaned on the railing again, staring at Emma. Emma looked at Sophia, who waved her hands, saying “Nope, we did that once, and I’m going to have a shiner for a week. This conversation is all you girl.”

Emma turned back to Taylor who just stared at her. Emma took a deep breath and began talking.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was the third day of school and Taylor was on her way to the cafeteria to eat with Sophia and Emma when she heard a whimper. Slowing, she realized there were low voices coming from a room. Curious, she poked her head in the room. Emma and Sophia were standing over another girl, pushing into her space and saying really cruel things to her.

“What the hell?”

It took Sophia and Emma nearly twenty minutes to explain why they’d been tormenting the other girl who had fled as soon as Taylor spoke. Taylor rubbed her temples as she considered the mishmash of crappy social dynamics from Emma and even worse philosophy from Sophia.

“You know what? There is so much wrong with the crap you two are spewing that I can’t even begin to cover it in,” Taylor checked her watch, “thirty minutes.” She drove over their half-hearted protests. “You two are coming over to my house tonight. It’s a Friday, so tell your parents you’re sleeping over. We’re going to straighten this out tonight, one way or another.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday morning found Taylor staring at her homework and thinking. Sophia had gotten so angry at being called on her philosophy of life that she’d attacked Taylor. In the course of the fight, Taylor had managed to get a full nelson on Sophia. She had started to press it just a bit, to make Sophia submit when she turned into a shadow and escaped. She’d gone solid and stared at Taylor, dismay on her face.

The rest of the night had filled in the missing pieces from Emma’s encounter with the ABB. Taylor and Sophia made peace, or as much peace as they ever had after Taylor convinced Sophia that she wouldn’t out her as the caped vigilant called Shadow Stalker. Emma and Sophia had gone to the Boardwalk for something Emma wanted and Taylor was left to think.

After what had happened to her mother, the Heberts were not fond of most capes. The gangs caused trouble, killed people and were slowly ruining the Bay, and the PRT did jack shit about it.

On the one hand, Sophia was a cape, a type of person Taylor had little use for. On the other hand, she was fighting the gangs as best she could. She was, in fact, doing more against the gangs than Taylor, a point she’d made quite rudely during their argument.

She waited patiently for Danny to wake up, wondering what Union job had kept him out half the night. She wasn’t going to say anything about Sophia being a cape, but she did want his advice on how to deal with their weird ideas.

25DEC2008

The Heberts had celebrated the first Christmas without Annette alone, taking comfort in each other and stories about their missing family. There had been tears,but gentle healing tears, not the sobs of grief that had been so common. Taylor smiled as she set up her new laptop. The Union had gotten a lot of work over the last few months. The police were apparently cracking down on the drug labs, as they’d busted fourteen of them since Halloween. Danny had somehow gotten a contract to tear down the buildings after the cops were done with their work, and while not all of the abandoned building were torn down, enough of them were that the Union was doing better right now.

The gangs were pissed of course, but so far they were trying to find places to hide their new labs and not fighting among themselves yet. Well, no more than usual anyway.

Emma had finally settled down after Danny had a quiet conversation with Zoe, who had not been told the details of what happened in the alley. She was the one that had pushed Alan and Emma into counseling and made Alan sleep on couch for a week for not telling her something like that in the first place.

Sophia had been a harder nut to crack, but after yet another fight, a private fight in a deserted warehouse, the two girls worked out a deal. Sophia would ignore anyone she considered too weak to be worthwhile and Taylor wouldn’t nag her hourly about her philosophy. She would also help the other girl with her English classes since her mother wanted her to do better than she had been doing in those classes.

All in all, the year had been interesting.

02JAN2009

Alabaster came to again and waited for more pain but nothing happened. He’d been tazed in an alley coming out of a bar and several people had grabbed him before he reset. They had tied him up and tried to kill him repeatedly. he’d been shot in the head, electrocuted for nearly five minutes, burned, suffocated and even beheaded once, a thing he never wanted to experience again.

When nothing happened to him after a minute he started struggling against his bonds. He couldn’t see anything because of the duct tape wrapped around his eyes, but he could tell her was on some sort of boat.

“You might as well relax, Nazi,” said a voice. “You’ve got three yards of cable wrapped around your arms and welded together. We’ll be long done with you before you can break that. There’s also cable around your feet, attached to a hundred pounds of steel and welded. You’re not going anywhere we don’t want you to go.”

“The Empire will not stand for this,” Alabaster snarled. “You and your families will die for this night’s work.”

The man snorted. “They’ll never know what happened to you,” he said bluntly. “The Bay keeps its secrets, has for at least eighty years.”

Alabaster stilled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re going swimming with the fish and no one will ever find out what happened to you. It took us two months to figure out how to take you when no one would see us. There are only four people besides you that know where you are right now. One is an Asian man, his eight year old granddaughter was killed in an E88 drive by. Two are black men who had family beaten to death in E88 initiations and the last is a white man who lost his wife as ‘collateral damage’ in a fight between your gang and Lung.”

Alabaster swallowed hard. The relentless voice continued. “We tried to kill you quick and easy, but your power prevented everything we could do. We don’t have the equipment to totally destroy your brain in less than four seconds and even beheading you just made a body appear at the end of your neck. We finally admitted we can’t kill you, which is a pity for you.”

“What do you mean?” Alabaster couldn’t keep all the fear out of his voice.

“Well, for at least eighty years, Dockworkers have been throwing trash into the sea. Not all dockworkers of course, most don’t even know about it, although there are rumors. But over the years, we’ve found the sea keeps secrets better than anything else. Pedophiles, rapists, mobsters, they go into the water and never return. The only difference here is that you’ll be the first one to go into the water alive.”

Alabaster was frantically trying to figure out what to do now even as the voice continued. “In a few minutes we’ll reach on of the islands that dot the coast. You’ll be put into a safe and flown out fifty four miles from the nearest land. At that point, you’ll be dropped overboard to sink to the bottom of the ocean. If you are lucky, when the safe hits crush depth, you’ll die as it implodes. If you aren’t lucky, you’ll spend the rest of eternity being crushed every four seconds. Of course, you’ll never know which is happening, since the safe has a container of gas in it that will keep you passing out as soon as you awaken. We’re not in this to cause you pain you understand. You’re just the first cape in our war on the Brockton Bay gangs. Soon enough, you’ll have lots of company down there.”

Alabaster felt the ship begin to slow. “Time to go to sleep.”

He struggled as best he could, wrapped in cable and with weights hanging off of his body, but the four men stuffed him in a metal box and put a long tube in with him.

The soft hiss of gas sent him into unconsciousness. Every four seconds he would wake and take a breath and fade out again. It happened over and over, without him even having time to panic or struggle, until he knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is an attempted rape of a minor in this chapter, foul language and biased people saying foul things. If those things disturb you, skip it. There are also comments about offscreen deaths, but I figure anyone that has read Worm has seen worse. Bonesaw hasn't shown up after all.

05JAN2009

Kaiser looked up from the paperwork on his desk as Krieg entered the room. The other man sank into one of the chairs in front of his desk and sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing. Nobody has seen anything of Othala or Alabaster. Victor is running down the delivery person that found Othala’s door open, but he gave a statement to the police already. Unless something changes, they’re both gone.”

Kaiser frowned and thought about the problem. Alabaster was useful, but Othala kept the troops healthy and the other powers she could give out had helped in combat nearly as much as her healing. Losing her would hurt. “Any chance the two of them are just having an affair?”

Krieg shook his head. “Alabaster has issues in that area.” He saw Kaiser’s surprise and shrugged uncomfortably. “He resets every few seconds, hard to maintain interest in somebody that can’t be kept aroused.”

Kaiser winced as he considered that. Krieg moved on quickly. “Plus, Alabaster disappeared on the 31st, Othala didn’t disappear until the 3rd.” He looked at a small notebook he had. “The last call to her phone came from Alabaster’s phone and lasted two minutes. Four minutes later, a van that looked very similar to Alabaster’s pulled up in front of the house and Othala got in. That was the last anyone saw of her. I think somebody called her, claimed they had Alabaster and he needed her power.”

Kaiser thought it over. “She’s used to being called out to heal people, a call came from a number she knows and a van that looks like his pulls up. It would work. I wonder how long they waited to catch her alone like that?”

“Victor claims that until we asked him to help look for Alabaster, the two of them haven’t been apart this year.”

“So this is an attack on us, not a spur of the moment thing. That means we need to make sure everyone knows about the problem, and we need to find out who is attacking us.”

Krieg nodded. “I’ve already told all of our capes. The biggest issue we have there is Victor, who refuses to stop looking for Othala. We can’t send Cricket or Hookwolf with him, Stormtiger has to be at his work and so does Crusader.”

Kaiser frowned at Krieg. “Why are you using cape names for everyone? It’s not like you don’t know them all.”

Krieg rubbed his eyes. “First, I haven’t swept this office for bugs this week, second, I’ve been up for fifty hours looking for our people. I’m too tired to worry about it.”

Kaiser stood up. “Go get some sleep. If someone is going to attack us, I can’t have you doing something stupid because you’re not on the top of your game. Use the sub-basement so I can find you when I need you.”

After Krieg was gone, Kaiser looked at the map on the wall. This wasn’t Lung. The Chink would just attack and kill somebody, daring them to attack him. The Merchants didn’t have the brains for an operation like this and none of the minor gangs would try anything like this without back up from capes and everyone would know if they had gotten a cape.

He considered the downtown area thoughtfully. There had been problems there, with a new gang, supposedly run by a Parahuman. Coil, they called him. He wasn’t big, but no one knew anything about him or his power if he had one. It was time to grab one of his mercenaries and ask some very pointed questions. Kaiser stepped into his private elevator and Max Anders stepped into his office when the doors opened. He sat down behind his desk.

Attacks on the Empire or not, business continued.

05JAN2009

Danny looked up as Osamu Kato sat down on the seat next to him. Danny was having a quick sandwich at a lunch counter a couple of blocks from his office. He ate here at least twice a week, more when the Union was busy.

He’d started coming here because it was close and cheap, but it had become a regular thing after he realized that workers that wanted to talk to him without being seen by management would stop in to grab a bite to eat and just happen to run into him.

While Osamu wasn’t a dock worker now, he’d been one for nearly thirty years. “Job’s done,” he said quietly after the waitress had taken his order.

“Any problems?” Danny asked.

“Not a one. Even got some net time in. Actually made a profit today.”

Danny nodded. Osamu ran a small one man boat and everyone was used to seeing him come and go in the bay. That he’d taken a fifty-five gallon drum out with him today was nobody’s business, nor where it had gone.

“I’m thinking of dry-docking for a week or so, scrape the hull, change the zincs, that sort of thing.”

Danny thought about it. “Probably a good idea to do it now, before the summer hits,” he said calmly. Until they found a way to get another cape or two, they wouldn’t need the ship for disposal.

They chatted about this and that, talking small talk as they ate. Danny paid for his meal and walked back to his office, thinking about what he was going to do next. Alabaster’s phone had gotten them Othala, but with two capes gone, the E88 was going to get nervous. It was time to leave them alone for awhile. The ABB was a harder nut to crack, as they didn’t have any way to kill Lung yet and no one except maybe Lung knew where Oni Lee went out of costume.

That meant hunting for Merchants. On the surface, that would be easy, but they’d managed to hold on against Lung and the E88, so they couldn’t be completely stupid. Danny and his people would have to be as careful hunting Skidmark as they were hunting any other capes.

Spring, 2009.

The last four months had brought the city to a slow boil. Squealer and two more Empire capes had simply disappeared. Cricket and Crusader weren’t high level capes, but they were strong enough that the Empire had started sending capes out in threes and fours.

On top of the disappearing capes, it had finally come out that the BBPD were not busting drug labs, but arresting the people after a vigilante group found them and robbed them of all their cash. Rumor said that the vigilantes were led by a parahuman thinker and probably had at least one or two more. Some people blamed it on Coil, as his people were very similar to the vigilantes, some people thought it was a new gang trying to build a reputation before going public, but there was no evidence of anything yet.

Taylor had barely noticed the issues, busy with school and trying to keep Sophia somewhat normal. Emma and Alan had therapy twice a month and were getting better, but Sophia was both too stubborn to use therapy and too broke as a civilian to afford it. Shadow Stalker was still going out, but with the capes on a hair trigger, she was mostly hunting street dealers and muggers, of which the Bay seemed to have a never ending supply. Most of the money she took from them was going to her family for bills.

It was the Merchants that finally brought everything to a head. The police had actually found their new lab and raided it. Without Squealer to make invisible vehicles, they had simply followed the supply runs and located the building.

The PRT and police had run the raid and confiscated drugs, weapons and drug making supplies in numbers never before seen in Brockton Bay. Nearly a hundred arrests, including Mush and the loss of most of his money making gear drove Skidmark into a rage.

Skidmark actually disappeared for a week after the raid and people were beginning to think he’d moved on until the Local Control Center for the Brockton Bay power grid was destroyed. Skidmark had mounted a large pipe on a flatbed and layered his fields on it until he could shoot an oil drum full of sand out of it at nearly eight hundred miles an hour. It had only taken twelve drums to destroy the LCC, and on the way back into Brockton Bay, the destroyed a dozen substations.

With the electrical grid down, only the businesses with emergency generators were functioning and everyone else was out of luck. During the outage, Skidmark hit the E88 twice, using his drum gun to destroy buildings that they used before fleeing. He managed to kill Stormtiger even after he was gone by loading the flatbed they had abandoned with explosives. Stormtiger went to move the vehicle and was blown up with it.

The PRT increased Skidmark’s threat rating and began an active hunt for him. While they were scouring the city for the drug addict, Lung came out long enough to take a big chunk of E88 territory before retreating back to his lair.

Kaiser, incensed by the double attack, raided the ABB territory in the middle of the night with all his capes. By the time the sun rose half of the Asian area of town was on fire and the E88, the Protectorate and Lung were engaged in a three way battle near the Boat Graveyard.

The E88 tried to withdraw, but Lung wasn’t allowing them to run and all the Protectorate forces could do was keep them all away from the civilians.

It was around nine in the morning when the fighting ended with a bang. No one knew what caused the explosion, but something in one of the old freighters blew sky high throwing Lung out into the bay and sending the E88 into and in some cases through warehouses.

Armsmaster and the rest of the heroes had to try and control the fire before it spread, while the other two sides disappeared. They found Krieg and one of the E88 twins dead in the aftermath, along with Oni Lee’s mask and his left arm.

After that fight, the Empire brought in four new capes from somewhere in Europe, which kept Lung from moving in on any more of their territory. They tried an attack on Lung, be he responded savagely, ripping the remaining twins leg off and beating Hookwolf with it until he retreated.

May went by quietly, with the gangs taking the time to lick their wounds.

It was the first week in June that changed the cape scene in Brockton Bay forever.

01JUN2009

“Danny, we’ve got a problem. Skidmark and forty or so Merchants are in the docks. It looks like they’re trying to take and fortify the old Brockton Trading warehouses.”

Danny glanced at his map of the docks. Those warehouses were huge, and no one knew what was in them anymore. More importantly to him, they were well within the area the dockworkers worked in, making this a clear and present danger to his people.

“Get the word out,” he told his secretary, “and get Kurt, David and Joe over here.”

Danny was only out in front of the Union hall for a few minutes before Kurt joined him. “Merchants, huh?” was Kurt’s comment. “Why is Skidmark coming out in the open like this? He has to know the PRT is going to come after him.”

Danny shrugged, listening to someone on the phone he held. “I see. Thank you so much for your time.”

Kurt watched the phone fly and looked at Danny. Danny swore under his breath for a minute and looked at Kurt. “The PRT,” he said tightly, “is looking into it and will send a cape out as soon as possible.”

Kurt snorted as Joe and David joined them. “The last time they said that,” he said cynically, “it took them three days to get out here.”

Danny nodded. “I know.” He looked at the other two men. “David, get a couple of your boys out in a boat to keep an eye on them. If anyone shoots at them or Skidmark tries that rail gun thing of his, have them leave. Joe, can you get Jesus to grab his binos and set up somewhere on the land side?”

Danny looked at Kurt. “Make sure all of our people are well away from there. We’ll give the PRT two hours to deal with this and then, we’ll take matters into our own hands.”

Kurt looked worried as he glanced around. “We can’t afford to fight them openly, Danny. We’ve only gotten as far as we have because no one knows we’re doing it.”

Danny clapped Kurt on the back. “Have faith. None of us will come within three blocks of those buildings, as far as anyone knows. Is Jack Kenners working today?”

Kurt thought for a minute. “No, he’s off today, had an appointment.”

Danny sighed. “And Monroe is in Boston. Damn it. Where’s Boomer?”

Kurt blanked. “Danny, when you start asking where all the people in the union are that have explosive experience, you’re not making me happy.” He shook his head. “Especially when you start asking about Boomer. That man’s crazy.”

“I know, but he’s the best we have today.”

“Can’t this wait until Jack gets back?”

“No. Those bastards aren’t spending the night in the docks, not in our part of them, anyway.”

Kurt shook his head. “I’ll find Boomer, but this is something we need to let the authorities handle, Danny.”

“And if I thought they would be here before that bunch killed somebody or dug in too deep to be removed, I’d let them handle it. Do you think they’ll be here today?”

Kurt sighed and got on his phone. “Martha? Kurt. Can you tell me where Boomer’s working today?”

“OK. Send Martinez over there, have him replace Boomer and tell Boomer that Danny wants him at the Union hall asap.”

“That’s it. Thank you, Martha.” He looked at Danny. “Now what?”

Danny was examining the map of the area around the warehouses Skidmark was trying to fortify. “Now, you go and get a drum of diesel and that drum of bug spray from the chemical warehouse.”

Kurt stared at Danny for a minute. “What are you planning on doing with one hundred and ten gallons of diesel and DDT?”

Danny pointed at the map. “We’re going to set a perimeter here, three blocks out. Make sure we clear anyone out that isn’t a Merchant. There shouldn’t be anyone in that area but merchants by now, but double check anyway.” He traced a line that ran under the warehouse. I was going to open those buildings next week, for some of the salvage we’ve been collecting from the drug houses we’ve been tearing down, so I went and looked at them. Their drains all run to this line here. Boomer and I are going to take those drums down there, use some insulation foam to make a pair of chimneys and smoke the merchants out.”

Kurt nodded. “I can see it, but you know that the authorities are going to have a fit about using DDT like this.”

“While the Merchants are being detained, and while we call the police, you and four others are going to remove the drums, the foam and every other sign of what we did, and then open hydrant seventeen and wash a couple of the big trucks out.”

Kurt grinned. “That one just happens to end up in the same line, doesn’t it?”

Danny smirked. “The hydrant should wash any trail that we leave away. Especially if you wash out the to dump trucks.” He handed a list to Kurt. “These are the guys that are on my shitlist this week. Pick four for the truck washing detail. Make sure I know who you pick so they can come off the list.”

Kurt nodded and left to get the men he wanted.

Thirty minutes later he was in a derelict building, watching the Brockton Trading company warehouse. Danny and Boomer had disappeared twenty minutes ago and Kurt was watching for the first signs of smoke.

A few minutes later, shouts and screams came from the merchant building. Within a few minutes, merchants were pouring out of the doors, coughing and wheezing while wiping their eyes. Kurt raised the jobsite radio they used around the docks. “round them up boys, and watch out for Skidmark.”

Two teams of ten men, the faster men working the docks broke from buildings on each side of the one the merchants had chosen. Each of them was armed with a cattle prod, capable of stunning a bull, a human hit with it went down and stayed there. Their sole job was to shock as many of the merchants as they could catch.

Behind them, four vans sped around the corner from where they had been waiting. Men poured from the vans as soon as they stopped. These were bigger men, not as faster as the shock teams, but much stronger. They grabbed the merchants and zip-tied the hands and feet of everyone on the ground. If, by some miracle of drugs or natural resistance, someone was still trying to fight, these men were there to put them down hard. They carried no weapons this time, but each ones wore gloves with eight ounces of powered lead sewn into the striking area across the knuckles.

Only one merchants was still trying to put up a fight and Robert Yancy struck him across the jaw. Robert Yancy was one of the biggest men on the docks, standing at seven foot three inches tall and it was said that he could pick up and carry away a fifty-five gallon drum like other men carried a six pack. He picked the struggling merchant up in one hand and looked at him. “Stop resisting,” he said calmly. The merchant’s reply about his mother was extremely impolite and Robert’s eyes narrowed. He set the man down and held him by one shoulder as he struck the man on the point of the chin.

The merchant’s head snapped back, his eyes crossing as he dropped to the ground. Working with Robert was Sean O’Malley. “That sounded painful,” he commented as he zip tied the man’s hands and feet. “I think,” he said, looking at the druggie, “that you might have broken something in the man’s face.”

Robert shrugged as he looked for more people to tie up. “A man should know better than to insult somebody’s mother. Maybe a month or so of eating out of a straw will teach him that lesson.”

Kurt was frowning as he watched the show. He raised the radio again. “Anyone seen Skidmark yet?” As the section leads reported back with negative answers Kurt grew more worried. Skidmark was a foul mouthed drug addicted shit, but he’d keep his gang up and running for nearly eight years in the face of the PRT and the other gangs. Given that his people were mostly brain dead degenerates who broke and ran at the first sign of serious trouble, Skidmark had something in his skull besides drug smoke. Not knowing where he was made Kurt nervous.

Ten minutes later Danny joined him, covered in mud and other more disgusting things. “Start the washing and use a lot of water. That whole line is two feet deep in slime and dead rats and crap.”

Kurt coughed. “We still haven’t found Skidmark. I’ll start the crew on washing the trucks, you go take a shower. We should have everything ready for the cops in twenty minutes. Some of the boys are making sure none of the merchants are too broken up and the hazmat team is still clearing the warehouse, making sure there’s no one left inside.”

Danny nodded and turned to go. “Just keep an eye out for Skidmark. He can be dangerous.”

Thirty minutes later, Danny and Kurt were ready to call the police. Danny opened his flip phone and dialed a very familiar number. “Hello, Sheila. This is Danny Hebert, down at the docks. We had a small problem here a bit ago and I was wondering if you would come take some merchants off our hands.”

“How many? Hold on a second.” Danny held the phone to his chest to muffle it for a few seconds, grinning at Kurt as he did so. “Sheila, Kurt tells me we have fifty-eight of them.”

“Well, in addition to whatever charges you can find, they broke into and vandalized a building that the Union actually owns, so we’ll be pressing criminal trespass and felony vandalism charges. My people tell me it’s going to cost at least ten thousand dollars to set the building right again.”

“They’re mostly undamaged, just a few bumps from resisting our citizen’s arrests.”

“Thank you, Sheila, and tell your husband that if he ever gets tired of being shot at, the Union always has a place for him. He was one of our best forklift drivers.”

Three hours later, the merchants were gone, hauled off to jail by the police department. No one had seen Skidmark yet, but half his remaining people were in jail. Danny made sure people were still watching for him. He was an unpredictable bastard. He might start a riot or he might just let it go.

Skidmark  
Home, 01JUN2009

Adam stared at the screen and swore under his breath. He’d sent 60 of his people into the docks. That old warehouse was built like a damn fort. He’d lived here for five years before finding out late one night while hiding from Challenger.

A little research had discovered that the warehouse has been built before WW1 by a company that made and shipped munitions worldwide. It was made of stone, with walls two feet thick and no windows on the bottom floor. The windows on the top floor were oddly shaped and angled up, so any explosion that did happen would vent up, away from the other buildings. He wasn’t actually certain that it would work as intended, but then, in 1905, that might have been the best they could do.

He quit dreaming about the building and watched the tape again. Those damn dockworkers had done something to cause masses of smoke in the building and then taken his people down when they stumbled from the building. He really wanted to know what they’d used. Anything that could make a junkie puke like that would wreck a normal person.

He needed a new stronghold. The police raid had destroyed the last one. He smiled. They had thought that he was out millions of dollars of product after they captured it, but he’d been one step ahead of them. The drugs in that warehouse had been fake, as they always were. Fifteen years he’d been running the Merchants and no one had ever caught on that he wasn’t as dumb as he acted in costume. Did they really think he’d be able to run a gang and keep up with the Empire and the ABB while being drugged out of his skull?

He’d been so pissed when the accident that had made him trigger had also removed most of his teeth, but it had actually been a good thing. Adam Mustain had a nice smile, with white teeth. He grinned to himself again at the thought of the look on everyone’s face if they ever found out the man that supported the Mayor and attended the symphony was also Skidmark. Hell, he’d shared a box with the mayor several times. He shook off the pleasant mood those thoughts raised and got back to thinking about his problem.

The dockworkers had been prepared, too prepared. Skidmark and his alter ego both knew how hard planning and carrying out complex plans ere, but the dockworkers made it look easy.

Hebert did it. He didn’t know how, but that damn bastard had been one step ahead of the gangs for years. He had to get rid of that bastard. Adam called up his files on Hebert. Depression, that was the key. When his wife had died, he’d gone quiet for months.

If his only child died…

“Adam?”

He closed his screen and turned toward the door to his home office. “Yes, darling?”

“Dinner’s ready, and we need to discuss if Leanne is going to be allowed to go to that party Saturday.”

Adam frowned as he thought about it. “I don’t know, honey. She was late coming back from her date and she was smoking pot.”

Daidra Mustain sighed. “It was a joint, not the latest Merchant tinker-tech drug. Seriously, Honey.”

“And what about being two hours late?”

His wife folded her arms. “You have no room to talk about that, Mr. I forgot our anniversary for a week.”

Adam coughed. “Yes, well, it was only once.”

“And she’s only been late once. I forgave you, you can forgive her.”

Adam sighed and stood up, crossing to her and folding his arms around her. “So what is this party, anyway?”

“It’s Diana’s sixteenth birthday party.”

Adam blinked and leaned back to stare at her. “Diana? Diana Johnston?”

“Well, yes, do you know any other Dianas?”

He shook his head. “I’d have sworn it was just a couple of years ago that the two of them were rollerskating in the street. Sixteen already. Huh.”

She pulled his head down and kissed him. “Silly man,” she said affectionately, “Time passes, you know. Leanne’s sixteenth is only four months away.”

He kissed his wife. “Fine, she can go, but, the next time she’s late without calling us she’s grounded until she finishes college.”

“Silly man.”

Adam went to dinner with his family, but in the back of his head, Skidmark was still working on the Hebert issue.

Taylor, 04JUN2009  
The Docks

Taylor was on her way to the Union hall. It was a beautiful day and she’d stopped at a little tea shop on the ABB side of the docks. With Lung having to defend the entire ABB area from the Empire, there wasn’t much chance of seeing him around here. The E88 were mostly biting blocks off that were on the other side of the ABB territory, since they could actually reach it easier.

The few ABB members here at the edge of the docks tended to steer clear of people wearing Local 240 gear. It wasn’t peace, more of an armed neutrality between the two forces. She was thinking about the state of the city as she walked along the sidewalk.

Skidmark hadn’t done anything since the arrest of his people and everyone was waiting to see what was going to happen. He’d blacked out the entire city for two weeks the last time and while the power lines and stations were better protected now, that didn’t mean invulnerable.

The E88 were slowly whittling away at Lung’s territory, but sooner or later, Lung was going to rain fire and death on them. He’d find a warehouse or something that they absolutely had to defend and attack it. This game had played out before, with only the absence of Oni Lee making it harder on Lung now. To make that worse, there were persistent rumors that Lung was recruiting new capes to take Oni Lee’s place. Knowing Lung, he’d want somebody that could blow things and people up, like Oni Lee had.

Taylor sighed and thought about the rest of the city for a minute. While the gangs were the majority of cape news, some of the independents were taking advantage of the changing gang scene to hit different areas and as usual, Shadow Stalker was right there in the thick of it. Her attacks were getting more aggressive and Taylor had the horrible suspicion that she was going to step over a line sooner or later. She shook her head. She had talked to the girl, done everything she could do. Sophia would just have to learn some discipline, or she’d step over the line between vigilante and villain.

Thinking about the city and being in her Union jacket had dulled Taylor’s caution and the sudden pain in her head that sent her into darkness was a complete surprise.

Taylor and the Merchants, 0JUN2009  
Abandoned Warehouse

(This section showcases some of the worst of people, trigger warnings from the beginning of the story apply here.)

Taylor woke to a headache and the sounds of men arguing. She tried to move, but her arms were tied to something over her head. She twisted, trying to look as the men kept talking.

“Yeah, we’re going to take her the Skidmark, but I’m going to fuck her shit up first. Her old man got my brother put away for thirty-five years. I’m gunna fuck the little bitch until she can’t close her legs.”

“What the hell for? No tits, no ass, be like fucking a boy.”

“Who cares? I ain’t keeping the bitch, just using her like one of them sex dolls.”

“Skidmark wants her alive.”

“She’ll be alive, just fucked a bit. Then I’m going to send pictures of my dick in all her holes to her old man.”

Taylor was twisting harder, trying to see what was tying her down as she listened to the man’s plan for her. Without her glasses, the men by the door of the little room she was in were just blurs. There were at least four of them, though. She was laying on a desk and her hands were tied to a sturdy looking bookcase somebody had shoved up against the desk at the top end. She started pulling, trying to free herself and the desk squeaked as it moved slightly.

She turned back to see the men coming closer. “Look, the slut’s awake.”

One of the shook his head. “Don’t take forever. I want my share of the money. I’m going to go have a smoke, maybe toke one up.”

One of the men left and Taylor grew pale at the looks the other three were giving her. The man in front had a vicious smile. “You’re about to get a new schooling, bitch. We’re going to teach you everything you need to know to keep Skidmark from killing you. He likes his bitches airtight and trained. He don’t like breaking in a bitch.” He grabbed her leg and fondled her calf. “I do like breaking a bitch, though and you’re going to be broken right here, right now.”

One of the other men, a Hispanic guy nearly as wide as he was tall sniggered. “How many bitches we broke in on this desk, man? Ten, fifteen?”

The third man laughed. “Who cares? It’s about the new slut, not the old ones.”

Taylor swung her free leg at the man fondling her leg, catching him across the face with her foot hard enough to push him back, making him drop her leg. She redoubled her attempts to free her hands, rubbing her wrists bloody in an effort to free them.

“Bitch!” The man came closer and Taylor drew her legs up close, waiting to hit him when he got close enough, but he stopped just out of range. The third man came around and threw his shirt over her face, blocking her sight. She panicked, kicking out wildly as the third man grabbed her head and put his hand over her mouth and nose.

She felt her legs grabbed, one man holding each leg easily despite her struggles.

“Wait, we can’t tie her legs down yet, she’s still got her pants on.”

“So what? We’ll just cut then off later. She’s struggling too much to try and pull them off.” Taylor felt her legs pulled apart, and tied to something near the legs of the desk.

The man at her head still holding her mouth and nose shut and to her growing horror, she began to see spots and then nothing.

Pain brought her back, and Taylor realized that her shirt and bra were gone, and the pain had been a blade nicking her as someone cut her pants off. Taylor had spent too much time on the docks not to know exactly what was about to happen. A sudden flash from a camera phone caught the entire scene.

{TRAJECTORY}  
{AGREEMENT}  
{DESTINATION}

The first man had just dropped his pants, letting them pool around his ankles as he reached for Taylor.

There was a flash and he knew no more.

Cpt. Conner  
PRT recon 1.

Captain James Conner was flying above the city, getting his flight hours for the month when a flash near the docks drew his eyes. He flew closer, alerting the PRT base as he did so. Just outside the area the Union claimed, a building was just gone down to the foundation. He was looking for it when another alert had him changing course to put a camera on something a citizen called in.

About a mile and a half away, he found the building. Without a foundation, it had fallen in on itself, but from the looks of it, somebody had just transported the entire thing here and dropped it in an empty lot near one of the older suburbs. He circled the building, using the onboard cameras to film it until a PRT crew got there and flew back to base, certain he’d be hearing more about this.

Taylor  
Home

Taylor found herself in her own bed with no memory of how she got there. She stood up, her pulse stilling racing and shivers racing across her skin as she remembered how close she’d come to being raped. She stopped suddenly. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, but she could see perfectly.

As she thought about her eyes, her vision lit up with a riot of colors and hues, many of which she didn’t have a name for.

It took her about one second to figure out that she’d become a cape.

“Well, shit.”


End file.
